“Throw your jacket on,” I suggest.
“Knowing my luck, Lewis will be standing at his door, ready to catch me or something,” he mutters, shrugging his jacket on.
“If he’s standing at his door, I'll be impressed,” I quip.
Cameron smiles. “You know what I mean.”
“What happened to Lewis?” I ask.
“Freak accident. He went diving and broke his back on some rocks.”
“That’s pretty intense,” I say.
“Yeah.” He nods.
“So you were there when it happened?” I ask. “That must have been scary.”
“I was the one who dragged him from the water.”
“Wow you’re a hero,” I say softly.
“Not really.” He gives an embarrassed laugh. “A real hero would've stopped him from doing it in the first place.”
“So…can I convince you to come up?”
“Dressed like that, you can pretty much convince me to do anything,” I admit.
He laughs. “I’ll keep that in mind once were up there.”
I follow him into his apartment, closing the door behind me. I slowly walk toward him, wrapping my arms around his neck. I kiss him and my lips melting into his. Everything about him is sexy. Even in a dress, he still turns me on like crazy. Possibly even more.
“Do you mind unzipping me?” he asks, turning his back slightly toward me.
I giggle. “Things I never thought I’d be doing? Unzipping my stepbrothers dress.”
“I’m not your stepbrother yet,” he murmurs. He turns back to face me, cupping my jaw roughly in his strong, masculine hands. I gasp, looking deep into his eyes.
“Would it stop you from doing this if you were?” I whisper.
He stares at me for a moment, the intensity in his eyes growing, then he shakes his head.
“If anything, it makes me want you more,” he admits.
He lifts me up to his waist, naturally I wrap my legs around him. He carries me through his apartment, stopping at the kitchen table. He sits me down, pushing my legs farther apart, while he kisses along my neck. Then he reaches behind my back to lower my zipper.
I gasp as his fingers slip along my bare skin, his touch sending my body into a frenzy. Then he lays me back, my body tensing as he slowly slides my dress down over my curves.
“That’s better,” he whispers, running a single finger down over my stomach.
I sigh, breathing heavily as I wait for him to act. He stands between my legs, tickling my thighs while he smiles at me. I groan, just the smallest contact driving me wild. My back arches as I grind myself against him, begging him to relieve me.
“Stop teasing me,” I mutter when he drags his fingernails over the outside of my damp panties.
My thighs clench, but he keeps them parted, the feel of his touch nearly too much for me to handle.
“What’s wrong?” he taunts. “You don’t like it?”
God, you know that’s not true.
I cry out when his finger slips around my panties and inside me. He leans over me, kissing my stomach, while he fingers me. I gasp, running my hands through his thick, dark hair. I grab hold of his hair when he moves lower, removing my panties, his tongue threatening to invade me.
I wrap my legs around his neck, my hands clutching onto his hair. He slides his tongue inside me and I groan, because he certainly knows how to work a woman’s body. He flicks back-and-forth against my clit, relentless in his determination to pleasure me.
“You like that?” he murmurs, his voice muffled against me.
I nod, because words aren’t possible. He smiles, his eyes staying locked on mine as he sucks and flicks at my clit. I cry out, my back arching as he pushes me, until I’m teetering on the edge of pleasure.
He carries me into his bedroom and places me on his bed. He removes his clothes revealing more than just the muscular chest I got an eyeful of earlier.
I whimper as he climbs over me, his mouth finding mine. He reaches over on his nightstand for a condom, tearing the foil open, then he rolls it over his length. I gasp as he pushes his length inside me, while my lips roughly explore his.
I groan, locking my legs around him, then I squeeze my thighs together, as he drives himself inside me.
“You’re incredible,” he mutters, kissing me.
“Oh, God,” I say, out of breath and almost ready to climax. “I’m going to …”
My voice trails off as my body begins to convulse. I gasp, my pussy throbbing as he slides in and out of me. He growls, thrusting harder, until he’s almost doubled over.
“Fuck.” He pants. He growls, releasing inside me while I grind my hips against his.
I groan, my body shaking, as I come again, harder and with more intensity than the first time. His grip on me tightening as he thrusts deeper and harder into me, until with one final thrust, he’s done.
I giggle as he slides out of me and rolls onto the bed. I stare up at the ceiling and then I face him. He smiles at me, looking as dazed as I feel. He rolls me into his arms, tilts my face up to his and then he kisses me.
Yep. I’m definitely not playing games anymore…
Chapter Thirteen
Cameron
“Do you really have to go?” I ask.
I lean over her, pressing my mouth against hers in a shameless attempt to stop her from leaving. She groans, but I can feel her starting to give in.
“Yes,” she says firmly. She grins at me and pushes me away, so she can stand up. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
I chuckle and watch her walk out of the room, listening out for the sound of the front door opening and closing, then I roll over and sigh. Last night was pretty fucking special. Not a single part of me expected it to end like that. Of course, I didn’t expect it to start the way it did either.
I smile at the sound of the doorbell and hoist myself out of bed. I walk over to the door, not bothering to put any clothes on. I’m that sure it’s Darcy, back for more of me. I knew she’d change her mind. I pull open the door.
“I knew you couldn’t keep that sexy ass of yours away—”
I stop talking when I see my father standing there.
“Dad,” I say in a flat voice.
“It’s a little creepy that you find my ass sexy,” Dad says, somehow managing to say that with a straight face.
“Obviously I thought you were someone else,” I retort. “What do you want?”
I walk over to the couch and grab a blanket, wrapping it around me, because there’s no need to ever have a conversation with my father while I’m naked.
“I have something I want to ask you.”
He awkwardly looks around, his eyes avoiding mine. I frown impatiently waiting for him to just say what he needs to say, but he can’t seem to get it out.
“Which is what?” I prompt him.
“I wanted to ask you if you’d be my best man best man,” he murmurs.
“Your best man?” I repeat. I look away, feeling embarrassed and uneasy. I thought I had escaped him asking me this with the ceremony just being immediate family, and I’m not sure how to say no without being rude.
“I’m not sure that's a good idea,” I finally say.
“What do you have against this wedding?” he asks, frustrated. “Is it Paula?”
“No, of course not.” I sigh. “I'm glad that you’re marrying her. I like Paula.”
“Then what is it?”
“Just forget it. Please,” I urge him.
“No.” He gives me a hard stare. “I can’t, and I won’t. Is it that I moved on too soon?” he asks.
“No…yes,” I say. I keep my voice flat. “You knew Mack and I were still struggling, but you didn’t care.”
He shakes his head. “Your mother and I were on and off for a long time before she got sick,” he reminds me. “Yes, we grew closer again after she found out, but…” He shakes his head. “I loved your mom, but I thought you’d accepted Paula being part of my life?”
/>
“Just let it go,” I insist.
He sighs and looks at his watch. “I have a meeting to go to,” he murmurs. “Can we continue this later? We can sit down and talk about this properly over a drink. I’ll come over tonight, okay?”
“Sure,” I say, my tone flat. “Whatever.”
“Good. I’ll see you then,” he says, then he marches over to the door and walks out.
* * *
I should have known he’d cancel. It’s what he does best, after all.
How many times have I dropped everything, for him to cancel on me? Half the time he can’t even call or text me to let me know. I read through his message again, then I walk over to the couch, falling face down onto the cushions. No sooner than I do, the doorbell rings.
Maybe he could make it after all.
When I open the door and find Darcy, I feel a twinge of disappointment. God, it kills me that I feel that way, but I can’t help it. She looks closely at me as she follows me inside.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
I shrug. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem it,” she says.
She follows me into the living room and stands there as I sit down.
“I get so frustrated with him,” I grumble.
“Your dad?” she guesses.
I nod. “We were supposed to catch up tonight. His idea, I might add. He wanted to get everything out on the table.” I laugh bitterly. “But he couldn't even show up for that. And it was the same with dinner last week and every other time he’s made plans with me. He made this big deal about dinner last week, how I had to go to, but then he couldn’t even sort his shit out to go to it himself? What kind of message is that sending?”
“What’s going on with you and him?” she asks. “You’re really against this wedding, aren’t you?” she adds.
I shake my head. “It’s nothing to do with your mom. I think she’s great.”
“So then, what is it?” she asks.
She reaches for my hand. I let her take it, loving the feel of her fingers entwining in mine.
“It’s a long story,” I warn her.
She smiles. “I’ve got time.”
I sigh, trying to get my thoughts together to express what I’m feeling.
“Dad started dating so quickly after Mom was gone. I know they were divorced, but they started seeing each other again after she was diagnosed. I know their relationship was complicated but can’t shake the anger I feel toward him over that,” I mutter.
Even saying it aloud, I can see how silly it is, but I can’t help it. It’s how I feel.
“Mack and I were still trying to cope and he’s out seeing all these women...”
“That must have been hard for you,” she sympathizes. “I don’t think it’s irrational at all. You associate your parents as being in love. I don’t blame you for not wanting much to do with this wedding.”
“It’s not even that,” I say as she sits down next to me. “The date of the wedding is the same day Mom was told her cancer was terminal.”
“Shit.” She frowns at me. “And your dad didn’t realize?”
“I guess he had a lot on his mind.” I frown. “They’re getting married exactly three years to the day that she found out. Maybe I'm being too sensitive or something.”
“Don’t dismiss it like that,” she says. “You feel the way you feel. You don’t need to apologize for that. Maybe if you speak with your dad—”
“No,” I say, frowning at her. “I don’t want to ruin their day anymore than I already am.” I nod at the bag she brought with her, keen to change the subject. “What’s that?”
“Nothing,” she murmurs, her cheeks going red. “I just bought you some dresses that I don't really wear anymore. I thought you might want to experiment with them,” she says. “Only if you want them, though,” she hurries to add.
I shrug. “Thanks. I’m sure they’re great.”
“You can try them on now if you want?” she suggests. “Do a little fashion show for me. It might cheer you up?”
I’m about to say no, but then I change my mind. She’s right about one thing. It will help me take my mind off Dad.
“Sure. Great idea.”
The smile she gives me is so happy and genuine that I feel awful for lying to her. I walk into my room and toss the clothes on my bed. I groan as I sift through the offerings. Am I really doing this? I laugh. This is fucking ridiculous. I pull a dress out and study it. I can already tell it's going to be way too small, but just to humor her, I put it on anyway.
“What the fuck am I doing?” I mutter.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror. There’s a chick I really like, standing in my living room and I'm in the bedroom, trying on her old dresses. Who the fuck does that? I laugh. I can’t keep doing this. If she hates me, she hates me. Either way, I need to go out there and tell her the truth. I stomp out there. I’m ready to confess everything, though I probably should’ve thought about taking the dress off first.
“Darcy, can we talk—”
I stop when I see Lewis. He does a double take when he looks in my direction. His eyes widen as they lock on mine. Then he starts laughing.
“Wow, Cam.” He chuckles. “I really like that shade of blue on you. It really brings out your eyes.” He studies me thoughtfully. “Actually, do you have red? Because I’ll need to see you in that—"
“Shut the fuck up,” I grumble, glaring at him.
“I’m sorry, he kind of let himself in,” Darcy says helplessly, then she jumps to her feet. “Shit. I totally forgot Mom wanted me to take her to the lady who’s doing her dress alterations,” she mutters, grabbing her bag.
“She’s cutting that a bit close for alterations, isn’t she?” Lewis muses.
I snort. “Because you’re a fucking dress expert?”
“No, but going by this, you might be,” he says, grinning at my sexy little black number.
Darcy’s eyes briefly meet mine, then dart back to Lewis.
“Mom had to buy another dress,” she explains.
“Another one?” Lewis asks. “What happened the first one?”
Darcy’s eyes flicker to me again. They sparkle in a way that makes my stomach churn.
“She decided that purple isn’t really her color.”
My eyes widen.
“No.” I gasp.
“It’s fine.” She giggles as I walk her to the door. “She likes the new dress better, anyway.” She gives me a kiss, then walks out.
I stole my future stepmother’s wedding dress?
“What the fuck is going on?” Lewis asks when I walk back down to him in the living room. “You’re wearing a dress, dude. If I thought for a second you were into that, then fine, but you’re not.” He pauses for a moment, uncertain. “Are you?”
“I’ve got no idea anymore,” I mumble into my hands.
“You’re losing the plot,” he comments. “Is this all just some silly game to try and land Darcy?”
“It appears that way,” I say, clenching my teeth.
“Man, you need to tell Darcy the truth. Whatever the fuck that is.”
“I know,” I say grimly. “Trust me, I know.”
Chapter Fourteen
Darcy
“Finally.”
I look up as I walk into the office to find Sarah standing there, arms crossed. I smile at her, wondering what her problem is. You’d think I was ten minutes late, rather than early.
“What’s up?” I ask.
Did she see me talking to Linton out in the courtyard? I glance at the window. I’m pretty sure she could see us from there. Why would she have a problem with that, though? I get that having a brother in the same field as you would be hard, but if she has a problem with me even talking to him, then she’s even more insecure than I thought. It’s so easy to forget that they’re siblings, because they’re so different.
“I thought today we could see how you handle your first group session.”
I k
eep the smile plastered on my face, even though the last thing I feel like doing is smiling. Me running group therapy? God no.
“Great,” I manage to say.
I’ve been dreading this day since I started. It’s strange, because the idea of leading a session makes my stomach churn, but I could get up and make a speech in front a thousand people without batting an eyelid. I’m not sure how that works. I think what I have an issue with is having other people’s lives in my hands. How can I tell someone else how to live their life when I can barely control my own?
Maybe I’m onto something there…
I snap back to reality when Sarah thrusts some papers in my face.
“Here are some sheets that might help as prompts, but there isn’t much you can do to mess it up. You’re in room seven.”
“Seven?” I repeat. “What happened to three?”
I’ve been sitting in on the same group, twice a week since I started and it’s always in room three. I assumed when the time came to run my own session I’d be working with the group who were not only used to me, but I was used to them.
She smiles at me. “If you don’t think you can handle it…”
“I’ll be fine,” I say stiffly.
I read the notes as I walk. I’m trying to memorize the names of the clients in my group, but it’s impossible to do that while I’m weaving in and out of foot traffic. I reach room seven, take a deep breath and then march inside. I head straight for the front of the room, juggling my papers as I move, mainly just to hide the fact that I’m shaking so much.
I go back to memorizing the names again, but when I get to the last one, I stare at it, confused. Why would Linton be on my list as a client?
It has to be a mistake.
I look up and scan the faces in front of me. When I see him, his eyes are cast downward, fixated on the floor. I frown.
He lied to me.
It doesn’t make any sense. Why would he lie about something like that, especially when chances were, I’d find out eventually? I stare at him, waiting for him to look at me, but he won’t.
PAYBACK’S A BITCH Page 13